Type
by LttlMssTrouble
Summary: After an interesting conversation, Abby is determined to find out which kind of woman Tony likes. But Tony isn't so sure about that himself - or is he?
1. Tony's Type

_Disclaimer: Not mine, chances I ever own them are pretty much non-existent_

_A/N: Since my last story I seem to have a writers block. It's annoying, there is not one idea that really stuck - let alone that I've written something I really like. This is one of the few things I've written that seemed to have some potential. I hope you like it :-)There won't be a second chapter, I wouldn't have a clue what to write in it!  
_

_It's unbetaed, because I had an urge to upload a new story, and I didn't had the patience to let it beta :P  
_

* * *

**Type**

* * *

Tony played absentmindedly with the bear in his hands. He sat in a club at the bar, accompanied by Ziva, Abby and McGee. After a while they had decided to go dancing, but he didn't feel like it. He tried to organize his thoughts, but they only wandered back and forward to a conversation he had had with Abby on Tuesday. He was down in her lab when a pretty cute blonde Agent had walked in with some evidence for another case. She had flirted with him, but he hadn't really responded. When the Agent had left the lab, not looking very happy, Abby had grinned.

'_She was totally on to you, Tony,'_

'_I'm not interested, she's not my type,' _

That was the moment he should have said something completely different, because of course Abby didn't live that remark down.

'_Whoa, what? I thought you liked them blonde and easy? Or do you have that kind of date already for tonight?' _

That had been the ultimate opportunity to discard the complete conversation. Why hadn't he said yes? Because he was offended by her comment? Well, he _was_ but with any other subject he could have let it slide without much hassle, that was for sure. Why he couldn't do the same with this one, he didn't understand.

'_Hey that ain't nice Abs,' _

He had answered. He knew she had a point. Of course she did: he had dated numerous women who easily fitted that description. But he hadn't been on that kind of date for a long time now – or any date for that matter.

'_Oh, don't be all offended Tony, your dates were always like that. Maybe a different hair color, or different sizes, but they were always pretty and don't say they weren't rather easy!' _

He still could see her standing in front of him: her arms crossed, looking impatient.

'_Maybe my type has changed?'_

Stupid suggestion! Stupid stupid stupid! Of course that wasn't going to stop her from asking questions, it had just made her more curious!

'_In what? Redheads like Gibbs?' _

He had laughed out loud when she asked him that. That would be the day! Well they weren't too bad to look at but it just wasn't . . . it.

'_No, I'm not following Gibbs' footsteps on that one Abby,' _

Well, at least that had been an honest answer.

'_Well, what is your type than?' _

His mind had wandered away, thinking about his 'preferences'. It hadn't been that hard really. He knew his type pretty good: a girl who was tough, honest, funny and could handle him. Stubborn, able to drive a car and good in whatever she did for a living. That really was about it. He was on the verge to tell that to Abby, but at that point Gibbs had walked in, with his usual brisk manners, and that had ended their conversation – which he should _not_ be so sorry for, for he hadn't had wanted the whole conversation in the first place. Right? It wasn't as if he needed advice on women, right? He had had enough experience to know what he found attractive, even with his dry spell lately. It wasn't like Abby needed to tell him what his type was . . .

--

Tony was pulled out of his thoughts when Ziva, Abby and McGee left the dance floor and joined him at the bar, but it was Abby who reminded him of the conversation again.

'I wanna play truth or dare!' She grinned, looking around.

'Why do you always want to play truth or dare?' McGee sighed, not looking forward to being probed again about his writing. Or his sex life. Or the girl he was dating at the time being.

'Because it's fun, Tim! So, Tony, truth or dare?' Tony looked up in surprise, not used to being the object of Abby's truth or dare questions.

'Truth or . . .' he started.

'Truth it is than!' Abby smiled.

'Wait . . . what . . . but . . .' he stuttered.

'No no, Tony, you said truth so truth it is,' Abby grinned. McGee leant back, feeling mostly relieved that he wasn't the subject of Abby's inquiring.

'Fine. Go ahead,' Tony grumbled.

'What's your type in women?' Abby asked without missing a beat.

'You really want to go there?' Tony groaned – which got the attention from the others.

'Yes!'

'I like them all Abby, you know that, don't you? Blond hair with blue eyes, or red hair and feisty with endlessly long legs or a brunette with beautiful long curly hair and chocolate eyes. So what's to know?' Tony smiled. Abby didn't go for the bait though.

'No, no Tony, that is too easy. What do you _like_ in a woman?' It fell silent after that. Tony stared into nothing while he was contemplating his answer.

'She is a woman that you won't forget easily . . . The one that nestles herself in your heart without you even noticing it. Strong, in every sense of the word, sharp minded, a little bit crazy and she can handle my antics,' a smile formed on his lips while he talked. 'She is funny, and when you gain her trust it will go a long way. But you won't want to mess with her, because she's pretty deadly when she wants to be. Oh and without a doubt: she is beautiful,' Tony ended after a small silence. He looked around the bar when he didn't receive immediate answer from his friends. Finally it was McGee who spoke up.

'Are you sure you haven't find that woman already?' he asked. 'Because that is pretty much a complete picture!'

'Ha, I think I would know it if I had found her, McNagg, I'm not blind you know?'

'If you say so, Tony, if you say so,' McGee answered with a shrug.

Not much later they all went home, having had a long day and the next day would probably be even longer. Abby lingered a bit when she was at the door, waiting for Tony, while Ziva and McGee walked outside.

'What's up Abs? Need a ride? I thought McGee would give you one?'

'Yeah, he's getting the car,' Abby smiled while her pigtails where bouncing up and down. 'It's just . . . About your type . . .'

'Oh come on, do you never stop Abby? I gave an answer right? And please don't tell me you know someone who fits that description, I honestly don't want to try that again if you don't mind,'

'No it's not that,' Abby said. 'But you know what, you're right: enough over that. See you tomorrow?'

'Of course! By Abs, take care,' Tony laughed and he walked outside where he and Ziva were waiting for a cab. Abby watched them talk and laugh, and couldn't help thinking about Tony's description. Tony had found his perfect woman already, she was pretty sure of it. And he was blinder than he said he was, because she was right in front of him . . .

'Abby! What are you waiting for!' McGee waved. Abby finally put on her coat, and ran to his car. Maybe she should ask Ziva about _her_ type tomorrow?


	2. Hot or Not

_Disclaimer: see previous chapter_

_A/N: So, I've written a second chapter o// \\o \o/ I want to thank the few people who decided to review and thought it was worth a go ;-) Couldn't have done it without you! Apparently there was something hidden inside myself that needed to be written._

_Again: not betaed, all mistakes are mine, but that's what the need for reviews does to a writer I guess. _

_And I promise you: there will be a third chapter. Although I won't promise that it will be posted as soon as this one. Hope you enjoy the read, and I wouldn't mind a few reviews - but in the end that is entirely up to you. Have fun reading!_

* * *

**Hot or Not**

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It had been a week since Abby had pretty much discovered that Tony had more feelings for Ziva than regular 'We are partners and need to take care of each other'-feelings. And Abby being Abby, she had decided that she needed to know what Ziva exactly thought of Tony – and maybe, just maybe, she could arrange things a little bit between the two. The question was: how to start.

'Think in solutions, not in problems,' she muttered to herself, while waiting for a fingerprint match to show up on her computer. 'If I just ask her what her type is, she will become suspicious. If I ask her if she likes him, she will probably just laugh. So how to let her talk without getting her suspicious . . .' Her eyes wandered through her lab, over her equipment, monitors, photo's, computers, evidence. 'Wait a minute . . .' Abby stood up and walked towards her wall with photos. Slowly an idea formed in her head, and a grin appeared on her face. Her pigtails began to bounce enthusiastically while she began to look on the internet for a website she had found a while back.

--

At the same time Tony and Ziva were walking around in the neighborhood of their most recent crime scene, to ask the people who lived there if they had seen or heard anything suspicious. It was a job they didn't liked, but it had to be done.

'So if you can remember anything else,' Tony flashed his DiNozzo-trademark-smile, 'than please call me. This is also my mobile number, so you can reach me at all times, day or night,' he handed his card to the woman in front of him. Ziva was waiting for him from a small distance, and looked how Tony was flirting with the woman, who had been washing her car. She was thirty-something, wearing a bikini top and a very short pair of jeans which barely covered her butt. Ziva understood partly why Tony found her attractive: she had long dark brown hair, pulled together in a ponytail. Her face was flawless, her body slender and her legs long. But what she didn't understand was why he tried so hard to impress her. He had gone all-out on this woman, and he barely even knew her. It didn't make sense to Ziva – especially since this was the fifth brunette he was making his moves on.

Finally he seemed to be done with his flirting, and he came over to Ziva.

'That was the last one, wasn't she?' He asked while they walked towards their car.

'I do not know Tony, have you not checked the other street corner for another half naked woman you need to impress?' Ziva spat at him.

'Oh my, Sweetcheeks, you almost sound jealous of me – or maybe you're jealous of her?' Tony grinned, looking very content with himself.

'Jealous? Ha! Why should I be jealous? I just do not understand why you were drooling all over her. I never see you try _that_ hard,' she huffed. She didn't wait for a response but simply unlocked the car and stepped behind the wheel and waited until Tony stepped in and secured his seatbelt before she sped away full speed back to NCIS.

--

'Ziva, go down to Abby and check what she's got. DiNozzo, McGee, give me an update,' Gibbs said when they got back in the bullpen. Ziva nodded, and walked back to the elevator. She entered the lab and saw Abby clicking through photos.

'Abby, what are you doing?' Ziva asked curious when Abby continued clicking.

'Oh, hey Ziva! I am looking on a site where you can rate if people are hot or not. It's fun, wanna join me?'

'Gibbs said to ask if you have anything yet?'

'Nope, not yet. I am still processing the fingerprints so Boss-man has to wait a bit longer. Look, what do you think of him?' Abby pointed at her screen, which showed guy with blonde hair and glasses.

'Hmm, he looks okay. I have seen better though,' Ziva laughed.

'Yeah, me too. So that's a 'not' I assume,' and she clicked on the button.

'That is all there is to it? Photos of men and we say if they are hot or not?'

'Yup, it's funny. And pretty addictive,' Abby smiled. 'Give it a go, you pick and I'll click,'Fifteen minutes later they were laughing so hard that they had tears in their eyes and cramps in their jaws – until Gibbs showed up behind them.

'Interesting results you've got Abs,' He said quietly. Ziva and Abby both stood up quickly, Abby clicked away the Hot or Not site, Ziva took some steps back and folded her hands behind her back.

'Ehm, no not yet, we ehm . . . were waiting for the results of the fingerprints but they weren't . . .' Abby looked to the other screen and saw several results flickering on it. 'Oh that's funny, you really have awesome timing Boss-man,' Abby smiled and turned to the monitor while she shared a short look with Ziva, her eyes sparkling from laughter.

'Hm-hm,' Gibbs grumbled. 'Maybe you get more work done upstairs, Ziva?'

'Of course,' Ziva answered, and she quickly left the lab before Gibbs would give her a load of paperwork to do.

--

It was hours later before Abby finally had the time to check the results from her little test with Ziva. The idea was simple, but she had the feeling it had been pretty successful. With a little script that made sure that all the 'Hotties' from the website got downloaded to a small database, she could easily see which kind of guy Ziva had picked most – and thereby she had established that she knew what kind of looks Ziva liked in a men.

'Woohoo! I knew it! I knew it!' Abby danced up and down with joy when she had arranged the pictures.

'Brown hair, green eyes, muscled and to top it off a killer smile! Ziva likes Tony too!' She flopped down in her chair when she realized something: Now she knew that they liked each other, she should get them on a date. But how on earth could she pull _that_ off? And she realized something else too: what if Ziva liked Tony's looks, but not Tony himself? There was, after all, a pretty big difference in being attracted to someone's looks and someone's personality . . .

--

Luckily for Abby, it was Ziva herself who delivered the answer to her the next day. Abby was dancing around in her lab on a song of the Dropkick Murphys when Ziva walked in.

'Abby?' She asked, but Abby didn't hear her over the loud Irish punk rock. 'ABBY!' She yelled this time, without result. Ziva rolled her eyes and looked around. She walked to the stereo and pulled the plug out. In the middle of her dance Abby stopped and turned around and saw Ziva standing in her lab.

'Hey Ziva, what's up?'

'It it lunchtime, remember?' Ziva smiled.

'Already? Give me a sec, I'll get my things,' Abby ran around in her lab to gather her bag, jacket and purse and five minutes later they were on their way to a small diner not far from NCIS headquarters. After ordering they talked a bit, but Abby felt that Ziva wasn't really paying attention to the conversation.

'So, what's bothering you?' she asked suddenly. Ziva couldn't help laughing.

'Is it that obvious?'

'You have been playing with your food for the last two minutes. Yeah, it's pretty obvious,' Abby laughed.

'It's nothing special, actually,' Ziva said. 'And I probably am looking way too much into it, anyway,' she added. 'But I believe he is acting strange. _Again_. It is not as he did when, you know, with Jeanne. But he _is_ acting strange,' she added with a definite tone in her voice. There was a small silence before Abby answered.

'I assume you are talking about Tony? How is he acting?' She asked carefully, trying not to sound curious and prying even though she was. When did Ziva ever talk about her worries, especially to her and foremost the worries she had about Tony? This probably was the very first time – and if she wasn't careful with her response, probably the last too.

'I do not know really, it is just so different. He is flirting with every brunette he sees. And when I asked him about it, he did not react other than saying I was jealous! Stupid, yes?'

'But Tony likes to flirt. I bet he can't help it, you know. Like Gibbs always makes boats, Tony needs to flirt. I really believe he would die without flirting,' Abby smirked at the thought alone.

'Yes I know Tony is a flirt, but now he only flirts with brunettes. Really, not once he looks at a blonde or a redhead! Like he

'Maybe he has discovered that he is mostly attracted to brunettes? Everybody has something he goes for right? I know what I want in a guy. He has to be caring, sweet, but he has to be able to stand his ground when necessary. What do you like in a man?'

'Does it matter?' Ziva shrugged.

'No, not really, but if I know what you like in a man, maybe I can explain why Tony does what he does while you do something completely different,' Abby said while she took a bite of her sandwich trying very hard to sound nonchalant. Ziva gave Abby a suspicious look.

'Why would you need to know what _I_ like in a man so you can explain the reason why _Tony_ acts like he does?' She asked, not completely trusting Abby.

'Because than I can give you better examples how his behavior is actual the same as yours,' Abby answered looking Ziva straight in the eyes. It wasn't a complete lie, if you thought about it. Because how else could she discover if they shared the same feelings?

'Hm . . . fine. But I hope you do not have lined up guys that I suppose to date next week!'

'Maybe one,' Abby grinned, feeling that she had resolved almost the first obstacle. Ziva huffed, and took a sip from her coffee.

'I like a man that has a decent job and doesn't live with his mother,' she said after a small silence.

'Ziva! That is what _every_ woman wants in a man! You are cheating, that's not fair!' Abby pouted a bit, if this was everything she would find out today, her mission was doomed.

'Okay okay, I like a man who is . . . loyal, and who knows the difference between right and wrong. Someone who can make me laugh, but who is not trying too hard. I do not mind a bit cockiness, but I cannot stand arrogance or selfishness. He shouldn't be someone who follows the rules without thinking about it, he has to use his own mind when the rules aren't sufficient enough. But most importantly: he has to have a good heart. Now, Abby, please try to explain why Tony acts the way he acts lately?' Ziva ended her description.

'Simple: you know what you are looking for, what you want in a man. Tony apparently doesn't know what he wants in a woman, but he does know what he likes when it comes down to the looks of one. So he goes after that, and when he learns to know those women better, he discovers if he likes their personality as much as their appearance,' Abby explained without hesitation. She was pretty sure that she said a bunch of nonsense, but as long as Ziva bought it she didn't really care.

'So Tony has decided that he likes brunettes so he goes after every single one he sees? That is just ridiculous! You have to get to know someone before you can decide if you love them, not the other way around!'

'Yeah, well, I believe Tony never had a good example of how a healthy relationship works. You can't blame him for trying to find someone, right?'

'I guess you are right. But it still is a strange way of thinking,' Ziva said, shaking her head in disbelief. They paid their bill and walked back to NCIS headquarters. Abby had changed the subject towards the case they were working on before Ziva started to notice that her interest was not completely without a motive. When she was alone in her lab again, she smiled like the Cheshire cat. Tony had feelings for Ziva. And Ziva's description of a man pretty much sounded like a description of Tony. So Ziva liked Tony – and was attracted to him, considering the outcome of the Hot or Not test. Now, it was time to get them on the same time, at the same place with the same goal: a date.


	3. Laying the groundwork

_A/N: Be aware for a more or less boring chapter. I had to do some groundwork, or better said: Abby had to prepare a few things. I am still working on the date, but it's kinda hard considering the fact I never really dated with my boyfriend._

_About the season premiere: I loved it, especially the way Tony and McGee worked together, and how it's finally shown how well the team fits together. The promo for next week though... I've seen it, maybe I shouldn't have. Wasn't really thrilled about it. Ah well, enough from me, have fun reading!_

* * *

**Laying the groundwork**

* * *

That same evening Tony was still at his desk when everybody had gone home. He had stopped looking for leads about an hour ago, but he was staring at the telephone numbers he had collected the last few days. They were written down on business-cards, pieces paper from his notebook and even a few napkins. Twenty. Twenty numbers of brunettes he had flirted with until he had gotten their phone number. The only problem was that he didn't want to call any of them. Yes they were brunettes, and oh boy they were pretty, but they just weren't . . . _it_. If he was honest, he didn't remember which face belonged with which number. And to call them for a date, without really knowing who he was calling, that was way below his standards.

He remembered a girl with chocolate brown eyes, and one with beautiful curls on her back and another one with a behind that would probably make even gay guys strain their necks for. But which part of those bodies belonged to who was a mystery to him. Tony sighed once, and with one swift movement he swept all the numbers in the wastepaper basket under his desk. Maybe he just should go home and catch some sleep instead of thinking about his love life. Ha! Who was he kidding? What love life? The last date that had been successful was so long ago that he didn't even remember it. It was already weeks ago that Tara had told him to pick the right woman. He had an idea of that 'right woman' in his head, but he still hadn't found her. Gibbs had told him 'to snap out of it' but he didn't even know where he snapped in was – so how could he snap out of it? Another sigh escaped his lips, and he gathered his things to go home.

--

The next day Abby and Tim worked together to find a digital trail of one of the suspects. While they were searching through various databases, Abby was still pondering how to set up the date. She couldn't tell Ziva at the last minute that she needed to be somewhere. Every woman, including Ziva, needed some preparation time for a date. And Abby couldn't not tell Ziva that it was a date, because than she wouldn't look as hot as she could. What if she asked her to go out with herself? Just for some drinks? No, that wouldn't work either because when Abby wouldn't be there but Tony would, Ziva probably would think that Tony was behind it. Knowing Ziva, she would think it was a joke. Or she would hurt Tony physical, while he had nothing to do with it.

' . . . I really don't want to go, you know? I don't want that sort of things. An evening on a yacht is pretty cool but I've got better things to do. They said I could go all out, even gave me a budget of ten grand. Ten thousand dollar Abs! Abs? Abby??' Tim was talking for at least five minutes without being interrupted and that wasn't very Abby-like.

'Yeah, you're right Tim,' Abby answered vaguely, still not paying attention.

'What's wrong with you anyway? You haven't said a word for like ten minutes?'

'Oh, nothing, just a little . . . you know. Thing. Doesn't matter, really,' Abby answered even vaguer.

'Abby? Are you . . . you're not . . . You know you can talk to me right? About everything?' McGee said hesitating.

'Yeah I know, why?' Abby smiled with bouncing pigtails. 'Did you find anything yet? I don't believe he has used his credit card yet,' McGee raised his eyebrows.

'You have checked his credit cards?' He asked.

'Yeah, I just told you that silly,' Abby grinned.

'Abby, I've put a trace on those cards fifteen minutes ago. When he'll use them we'll know immediately. Can you please tell me what is wrong with you today? You've been acting weird since I've walked in here. You're not in trouble are you?' He asked worried.

'What! No, of course not, I'm just a bit distracted,' Abby said, not looking at McGee.

'Abby, the last time you were 'a bit distracted' I ended up picking you up from the police station because you were trying to stop the construction of a skyscraper because of a flower that was growing on the building site. What are you doing this time?' McGee pushed.

'Fine, if you want to know it. But you have to swear you will not tell anyone about it,' McGee hesitated for a second.

'If it's not illegal,' he argued. Abby nodded and held out her hand, curled in a fist and held her pinky up. McGee did the same thing, but pulled his hand back at the last moment. 'And if you get in trouble, I will warn Gibbs and you won't be mad at me for it,' he added.

'Fine, if you must,' Abby rolled her eyes and pushed her hand under McGee's face. He curled his pink around hers and they nodded.

'I am trying to get Ziva and Tony on a date together, without them knowing it but they both need to know it on time. If I tell them both that they have a date, and they talk to each other about it, they'll get suspicious. I don't want that. So I decided to tell Tony I arranged a date for him but I can't figure out what I need to tell Ziva!' Abby explained. When she was finished McGee was looking at her in disbelief.

'You have got to be kidding,' he moaned in shock. 'Why do you want to get them on a date? It's not like they like each other!'

'Ha! Don't play stupid with me, McGee, even you think they belong together. Do Agent Tommy and Officer Lisa ring any bells?' Abby crossed her arms and glared at McGee, who turned a bit red.

'Fine, I'll help you. And I told you a hundred times that I didn't base my characters on you guys! What is your plan?'

'I don't have a plan!' Abby answered, and McGee started to laugh.

'What's so funny?' Abby mocked.

'Do you remember I told you about that stupid publicity thing I have? With the yacht and the diner, that thing?'

'Yes . . .' Abby said, not sure where McGee was playing at. But suddenly it clicked in her head. 'That is simply genius! Can you let them go in your place?'

'Yeah, I don't think that that will be a big problem,' McGee said. 'I'll just give their names to my agent; he will take care of it,'

'Than I will talk with Tony that he has a date on that yacht, and maybe we can give Ziva a secret admirer or something? We sent some flowers and that invitation. Tony will be curious; Ziva won't let him near it. And if I wait with telling Tony about his date until Ziva is gone . . .' Abby was thinking on warp speed, walking up and down in her lab.

'That will be tricky, because Tony will talk about his date, especially because it's on a yacht. So maybe we can send that invitation better to Ziva's home? That thing is Saturday, so we send the invitation to Ziva's home on Friday and you can call Tony on Saturday,' McGee suggested. Abby cheered and hugged McGee forcefully.

'You're awesome, Tim, I love you!' She laughed. McGee blushed again, not sure how to react.

'Yeah, well, I didn't want to go to that party anyway,' he mumbled.

'Oh this is going to be so much fun, Timmy, I can feel it!' Abby danced up and down again. Their attention got drawn towards Abby's computer that started beeping like crazy. They both looked at it surprised.

'I guess someone has used his credit card,' McGee walked to the computer, and a minute later they were both back to business, trying to find out where their suspect was.

--

That same day, a beautiful bouquet of gerbera's was delivered at Ziva's desk, colored in yellow, orange, red and purple tints. Tony's eyebrows shot up a few inches and walked over to Ziva's desk.

'Watcha ya gat there Zee-vah,' he asked grinning. Ziva's eyes went from the flowers to Tony. Without breaking their eye contact she slapped Tony's hand away when he wanted to pick up the card between the flowers. She picked it up herself, and read it quickly. A smile appeared on her face, and her eyes went back to Tony.

'You want to read this, yes?' She asked smiling.

'Well . . . If you want me to?' Tony answered, flashing his smile.

'No, I do not want you to, Tony,' Ziva put the card away in her desk. 'And if I catch you at my desk, or if I find out that you have searched my desk. Which I will. You will be very, _very_ sorry. Yes?' Tony opened his mouth to say something, but before he could speak Ziva was up on her feet, standing ever so close to him, putting slight pressure directly at the fly of his pants with her knife. Tony glanced down, and tried to step backward but he was trapped against the divider next to Ziva's desk.

'Alright already, point taken, Ziva,' he said hastily. Ziva pulled her knife away.

'Atta boy,' She smiled and tapped his cheek with her hand. She sat down again, and Tony scurried back to his own desk. He eyed the flowers on Ziva's desk again, but when he met Ziva's eyes he quickly turned back to his work.

--

The next day, another delivery was made. It was a single orchid, fully blossoming, and a small box was delivered with it. Tony watched from behind his desk how Ziva opened the box and saw a smile appearing on her face. She reached for her phone, and made a call.

'Abby, did you send me a cupcake? . . . No, there is not . . . I have no idea, but this person has taste, the flowers are beautiful! . . . Okay, bye,' Tony quickly looked down, trying not to look guilty of eavesdropping. He was interested, to say the least. He could, of course, try to read the card that had been with the flowers of the day before, but the chances of Ziva catching him were pretty big. And he really needed his Little Tony. But she wouldn't really cut off his . . . Right?

--

Thursday came, and so was a third delivery of flowers for Ziva. This time it were sunflowers, and they were at least as good looking as the gerbera's and the orchid. Tony still hadn't had a chance – or the guts – to read the card, and he got more and more curious by the hour. Who was sending Ziva flowers? He didn't like it. Not because he was jealous – of course not, DiNozzo's didn't do jealousy – but because he was curious. He was very, very curious.

So he stayed that evening, working on a lead, until everybody had gone home. Quickly Tony went over to Ziva's desk, and he rummaged through it hastily. He found the envelope and looked at it carefully. No name, no address. No SWAK's too, Tony grimly smiled. He opened the envelope and pulled out the card.

_United we stand_

_Divided we fall_

_Together we are_

_What we can't be alone_

That was it. Again no name, not even a signature. It sure as hell was a weird way to declare your love to someone. Tony put the card and the envelope away. He was still curious and he didn't know much more than that afternoon. And now he had taken the risk to wake up the next morning without his . . . equipment. He swallowed a bit frightened and looked around. The bullpen was completely empty. Without a second thought, Tony went home.

--

The next day they finally had a breakthrough in their case, when they picked up a credit card trail and a few hours later they had successfully closed their case. McGee, Tony and Ziva walked into the bullpen together, to write down their last reports about it. Another arrangement of flowers lay on Ziva's desk. White, red and rose roses with long stems, bundled together with a red lint. Ziva picked them up and buried her nose into them.

'David, I expect that you take your flower shop home with you?' Gibbs walked in before Tony had thought of the right way to ask questions without having to live his life without his manhood. With a last look on the four bouquets of flowers, he went back to his report.

'Of course Gibbs,' Ziva nodded, and she too went back to her report.

--

When Tony came back Saturday from his weekly game of basketball in a park near his apartment, he went straight for the shower. After he had washed off the dirt and sweat, he thought of what he could do that evening. Just when he decided he would go watch a few movies, his cell phone went.

'DiNozzo, master of movies,' he answered, a towel around his waist.

'Hey, Tony, it's Abby. What are your plans for tonight?'

'I am not allowed to talk about it,' Tony whispered through the phone.

'Serious? Fight Club? Again? I've got something much better!' Abby answered.

'I am still not interested in a real Fight Club, Abby. Sparring with Gibbs is close enough. And it hurts like hell,'

'No no, not that. Although I have to say I'm disappointed you didn't want to do that, I thought it was an awesome idea to do that. Not like the real Fight Club, but just sparring in an abandoned basement somewhere, what's wrong with that?'

'Abby, I don't think you called because of that?'

'Uhm, no, you're right. I've got you a date!'

'A date? With who?' Tony asked.

'That's a surprise. She is beautiful, exactly your type. And it's on a yacht, and I promise you she isn't pregnant,'

'She better not be! The last girl you set me up with was practically in labor, remember? And why is her name a surprise?' Tony asked suspicious.

'Because it would give away too much information, silly! So, are you going?'

'Hmm, fine. But only because I've seen Fight Club already. What's the address? . . . Okay. And what does this mystery girl looks like?'

'She's a brunette, long hair, I think you'll really like her. And I swear you'll recognize her immediately,' Abby rattled. When she hung up, Abby looked at McGee with a huge smile on her face.

'He's going! Oh, I wish we could see them tonight,' she sighed. 'But it's starting to look good. Ziva's gotten the flowers and the invite tonight. And she has told me Friday she was curious about the sender, so she'll go anyways,'

'I just hope I'll be still alive when they found out,' McGee sighed.


	4. Not A Date

_A/N: Well, this took longer than I had thought - rewriting this for about five times and than in the end writing the first idea I had tends to slow things down. But, to make it things up with you guys, I am giving you two chapters! _

_I have to admit that I'm still not sure about this story, maybe because it was hard to write, or maybe just because I had no idea what the hell the ending was until I wrote it. And now I've written the ending I'm not even sure if I like it myself, so I can understand if you're a bit disappointed with it. Don't hesitate to give a review though, good or bad, everything is welcome :-)_

* * *

**Not A Date**

* * *

From a small distance Ziva looked at the yacht she was supposed to go on to. Numerous people where on it, it looked like the event she was anonymously invited to was a popular one. There hadn't been much information on the card she had received the other day. It was a charity event from some art association. There would be a diner on board, a live band, and of course her date. At the surface it seemed alright, but she knew from experience that things hardly ever were what they looked liked. So she had brought protection: one knife was hidden at her waist, another one was hidden in the shaft of her right boot. In her left boot she had concealed a small Smith & Wesson .45 caliber.

'Well, let's see who Mister Mystery is then,' she mumbled, and she walked towards the yacht.

--

Minutes after Ziva had boarded the yacht, Tony parked his car on a parking place nearby. He whistled a Frank Sinatra song when he neared the ship. Taking in the crowd and the ship, he was impressed. The yacht was beautiful: pure white, about 295 ft long and had 3 masts. There were a lot of people on the deck, talking and laughing. Tony took in the crowd, and decided that if his date was not worth the trouble, he probably wouldn't have a bad night after all. He took the gangway, and was greeted by a blonde hostess.

'Hello sir, welcome aboard! Can I help you with something?'

'My name is Tony DiNozzo, there should be a table ready?' Tony smiled. The blonde gave him a once over and smiled.

'They are still setting up the tables, sir, I am sorry for the inconvenience. You can get a glass champagne and take a walk on the deck if you would like to?'

'Thank you, I would like that,' Tony nodded. He followed the hostess up to the deck. She approached one of the waiters and came back with a glass champagne. Tony looked around the deck. There was a small bar, a dance floor and at the bow side of the deck, next to the railing, there were placed ten tables. Waiters were still setting them up, accompanied by the jazzy sounds of the live band who were playing on a small podium. The setting was completed with lights hanging between the three masts and up and around the deck.

'Sir? You are seated right at the bow. You will get a signal from one of the waiters when you can be seated. Have a nice evening, sir,'

'Thank you,' Tony smiled. He lifted his glass at her and turned around to take a walk over the deck. He had the feeling it was a bit cramped. Maybe the months afloat had rubbed off on him he grinned. The corridors and bunkers had been small, but the deck had been wide, open and spacious. It had been the one thing he liked about being Agent Afloat – if there were no carriers or jets that had to land or fly out. With the glass in his hands he strolled over the deck, looking at the other guests of this . . . thing. He still didn't had a clue what event he was joining but it seemed classy enough. Through the people on the desk he suddenly saw a brunette, leaning against the railing at starboard side. He only caught a glimpse, but remembered that Abby had told him his date was a brunette with long hair. He crossed the deck, slipping through the crowd and stopped right next to her.

'Nice view, isn't it?' He said. The woman looked up and frowned.

'What are _you_ doing here?' they both said at the same time. Tony's eyes traveled over Ziva's appearance. She wore black heels, a very sharp cut black pair of pants and a white sleeveless top that accentuated her slender form and emphasized her honey colored skin. Her curls where loose and shiny and she wore hardly any make up. She looked gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous.

'You like what you see, yes?' Tony shook up out his thoughts and gave her crooked smile.

'_I_ got a call from Abby that she had a date for me. What are _you_ doing here, Dah-veed?'

'I got an invitation for this, and thought it would come from the person who send me those flowers,' Ziva said. She turned her back to the water and scanned the crowd with her eyes. 'But I do not believe I have seen him yet,' She turned back to Tony, not giving herself – or him, for that matter – the pleasure of checking him out. He wore a green shirt, not completely buttoned up, giving him a nonchalant charm. The color brought out his eyes, she noticed.

'Who is your date?' She asked.

'You tell me, according to Abby 'I would recognize her immediately' and 'she would be totally my type'. I have to admit there are a few beautiful women around her, but I haven't recognized one of them yet,' Tony answered.

'Maybe she won't show,' Ziva teased.

'Who says your date isn't an ugly Quasimodo or something,' Tony grinned. 'I mean, sending flowers is one thing, but he didn't leave a name or telephone number, nothing,' Ziva looked up at him with narrowed eyes.

'You!' She hit him on his shoulder. 'You went through my desk! You have read the card! Anthony DiNozzo, I swear I will . . .'

'Miss David, mister DiNozzo? Excuse me for disturbing, but your table is ready,' a waiter had walked over to them unnoticed. 'If you would follow me please?' Ziva gave Tony one last furious look and followed the waiter. Tony rubbed his shoulder and walked after her.

'Here you go miss,' the waiter pulled out a chair and Ziva sat down. The waiter looked at Tony who was still standing.

'Don't you want to sit down, sir?' Tony opened his mouth, his eyes shifted from the waiter to the chair to Ziva and back. He saw the surprise in Ziva's eyes that he felt himself, but sat down nonetheless. The waiter handed them over the menu's and walked away to another pair of guests.

'So,' he said after a short silence. 'This is unexpected,'

'You did not arrange this?' Ziva asked suspiciously.

'Abby called me,' Tony shrugged while he played absentmindedly with the spoon at his napkin. His fingers stilled and his eyes met Ziva's. The realization hit them simultaneously.

'Abby,' Ziva nodded while Tony groaned it.

'I wondered how that person knew where I worked and my home address . . . We should have known, yes?'

'The chances that we would be at this yacht at the same time are ridiculous small,' Tony sighed. 'And there is no such thing as coincidences of course,' he laid down the spoon and placed his fingertips under his chin.

'So what do we do know? I don't know about you but I'm kinda hungry,' he grinned.

'Do not think I forgot about the card, Tony. You went through my desk, after I specifically told you not to read the card,' Ziva glared at him and leant in slightly. 'I can still cut off Little Tony. Right here, right now,' she threatened. Tony paled slightly and sat back.

'Look, I know I shouldn't have gone through your desk but well, you know me, I'm curious. I just couldn't resist!'

'And what if I cannot resist myself Tony? What if I have the undeniable urge to take my knife and undo you from your manhood, yes?'

'You wouldn't, right?' Tony paled visibly. 'I'm sorry! Really, didn't mean to pry. Well maybe I did,' he hastily recovered when Ziva stuck her hand behind her back, pulled out her knife and placed it on the table. 'But the last time we got an anonymous package I ended up in the hospital with the plague so forgive me for car . . . trying to watch out for my partner!' Ziva tilted her head and gave Tony a long look. It was somehow kind of sweet that he wanted to look out for her – although it was unnecessary and he refused to admit it. She reached to her boots and lay her other knife and gun on the table. A woman on the table next to theirs saw the small arsenal and looked terrified.

'I never go anywhere without some backup,' Ziva explained.

'So you're not going to shoot me or slash me or something?' Tony asked.

'No,' Ziva smiled. Tony sighed relieved. 'Not yet anyway,' Ziva added with a smirk. She grabbed her weapons, placed the knife and gun back at her ankles and gave a friendly wave with the last knife to the woman who still looked at it with big eyes before she put it away at her waist.

'That's nasty, David,' Tony chuckled while he picked up his menu.

'Well, staring is not polite. And to ask your fist question: I am hungry too. But there is rule number twelve . . .' Ziva answered. Tony put his menu down again.

'Yeah, there is that rule,' he nodded slowly. They stared at each other, both trying to read the other.

'The thing is that maybe this thing is not . . . you know?' Tony started, feeling suddenly strangely uncertain of himself.

'I guess I do . . .' Ziva answered hesitating. 'Abby set this up, yes? Not we,'

'Right, right,' Tony agreed. 'So if we don't see this as a . . . you know, than . . .'

'. . . we are not breaking any rules at all,' Ziva ended his sentence. 'Gibbs does not have a rule that forbids us to have dinner together as partners, no?' She suddenly asked. Tony gave her a big DiNozzo-smile.

'Not that I know off. So . . . Shall we eat?'

'Shouldn't we order first?' Ziva laughed.

--

'So, we were in that plane, switched parachutes and everything, door is open and I literally get pushed out, freefalling and all,' Tony told between two bites of the roasted rack of lamb they had ordered.

'And you had never jumped before?' Ziva asked. She picked up one of the bowls on the table and served herself some more of the roasted potatoes that were served with the lamb.

Not once. I did wanted too, but not really like that. Messed up the landing and it took a few hours before I got back on the base,' Tony grabbed his napkin, cleaned his mouth and took a sip of the San Pellegrino they had ordered with the lamb. 'What about you, ever took a dive from an airplane or something?'

'Of course, it was part of our training. I like the view you have up there. The world looks much more peaceful,' Ziva smiled. She took another mouthful of the delicious meal. 'The strangest jump I have done is from a five story building without ropes or anything,' she told casually. Tony's fork froze between his plate and his mouth.

'Why the hell did you do that for?'

'We had an investigation going on a few weapon smugglers. It was not big, but they were stealing from Mossad self. We tracked them, I followed one of them into that building and I thought he went upstairs. He hoaxed me,'

'Tricked me,' Tony threw in smoothly.

'That too. He had gone out via the backdoor and I saw him while I was on the roof. He was running right around the corner, next to a few garbage bags. So I jumped. Crashed right on his back, into the garbage,' Ziva explained.

'Nice. Broken anything?'

'No, but it took me three days before my hair stopped smelling like rotten fish,' Ziva laughed.

'You can better smell like a construction site, right?' Tony winked. Ziva looked up at him and gave him a dirty look – than she started to laugh. They continued their dinner, talking about cases and the strange things they had witnessed. They were just done with eating when their waiter approached their table.

'I'm sorry to interrupt, but could you come with me? The auction is about to start,' he said to Ziva.

'What auction?' she asked surprised.

'The women's auction, to raise money for children in Africa,' the waiter smiled. Tony snorted and looked at Ziva who looked confused.

'If you follow me, they are preparing the runway already,' the waiter said. Ziva slowly stood up and shot a dark look at Tony who tried to look serious and failed miserably.

'I'll call Abby,' he said before she followed the waiter. 'Maybe she know something about this,'

'You better get me out of this, Tony!' She warned. As if he could help it. Tony rolled his eyes and grabbed his cell phone to call Abby.

'How is it going, Tony? Are you having fun?' She answered her phone.

'Well, the evening so far isn't bad, but you should have told about the auction Abby, Ziva is not happy,' Tony answered.

'Auction, what auction?'

'The one where they are going to sell Ziva for charity,' Tony couldn't help but laugh. It really sounded ridiculous.

'Wait, I don't know anything about an auction! I'll give you Tim,' Tony heard some noise and rumbling and suddenly heard a panting McGee.

'I forgot! I forgot about the auction! I'm sorry, but I just hadn't thought about that and . . .' he rambled.

'Take it easy McMemoryloss, it will be alright. Just tell me what to do to get Ziva out of there before she'll murder her buyer,' Tony answered.

'I don't know! I just got an invite for this thing, never wanted to go and Abby thought it would be a good idea to set you up. That's it!'

'Yeah we figured that much. So since you're behind this, I'm expecting you pay for it? Because if I see the how everybody is dressed, and how big this yacht it, and the food and all . . . it's going to be expensive and you make more money than I do these days,'

'That won't be a problem, my agent gave me a budget of ten grand, that should be enough right?'

'Well, it better, because Ziva didn't look happy,' Tony hung up without saying goodbye and grinned again. He was going to buy Ziva, and with that he could tease her for weeks.


	5. Epiphany

_A/N: Well, her it is, the last chapter of this story. I am thinking about writing some sort of a sequel, but I am not promising anything. Enjoy the ride!_

* * *

**Epiphany**

* * *

'Ladies and gentlemen, welcome at our yearly charity event! This whole evening is organized by the American Author's Association, and they have done yet again an outstanding job!' A man in a tuxedo stood on the now empty podium with a microphone in his hands. The audience at the tables applauded. From the other parts of the yacht people had come to the deck, and in a few minutes it had become crowded. Tony was glad they had a table that was a little higher than the others, because it was placed next to the bow. He could look over the people easily, but stood up nonetheless. Leaning against the railing, he waited for what was going to happen.

'The major event this year is an auction. The money will be used to support a learning program in Africa for children. Normally we auction off books, but we decided to go a step further this year: we will auction the women to the highest bidder. We start with Stephanie!' A blonde woman, wearing a blue dress and giggling nonstop, walked onto the dance floor. The auction went pretty quickly and minutes later she left the dance floor again, at the arm of a smiling guy who had 'bought' her for twelve hundred dollars. A few other women were sold after that, for amounts varying between fifteen hundred dollars and five thousand dollar. Tony thought that the whole thing was sort of condescending for women in general. Why should women be auctioned and not men too? Not that he thought it wasn't funny to see Ziva David getting auctioned though.

'Our next 'victim', so to speak, is the very intriguing Miss Ziva David! Israeli from birth, now working in our beloved country. She's a feisty one, don't let that lovely face fool you!' Tuxedo spoke. Tony's head perked up a bit more and a big smile appeared on his face. She looked extremely pissed. Even he hadn't gotten her _that_ mad in all the years they were working together. She stood in the middle of the dance floor, her head held high and not looking at anyone. With her hands on her hips, her feet slightly apart, refusing to smile, she made nice picture, he had to admit that.

'Let's put the starting bid on one thousand dollars, she is worth every penny gentlemen!'

A men in the front put up his hand, followed quickly by three others. Within thirty seconds Ziva was worth four thousand dollars. Tony crossed his arms and looked at the guys who were bidding. Two were older, already balding and grey. Number three was a body builder kind of guy: muscled, large. The fourth one looked a bit like McGee: friendly face, not too outstanding. When the number went up to five thousand, Ziva turned her face towards Tony and shot daggers with her eyes. The two older men stopped bidding, Muscles and McLookalike went on. They had reached the seven thousand point, Tony decided it had been fun – and it had been enough.

'Ten grand,' he spoke, his voice loud enough to be heard by everybody on the deck. It went quiet, people turned their heads. 'Ten grand, with the courtesy of mister Thom E. Gemcity,' A murmur started to go through the crowd, surprised whispers and soft whistles reached Tony's ears. The auctioneer reacted quickly.

'Sold! On behalf of Thom E. Gemicty, for the amount of ten thousand dollars!' The crowd applauded loudly and Ziva walked with fierce steps back to their table. She stopped inches away from Tony and took a deep breath. Tony saw how her eyes darkened even more, how her noses trills flared slightly. He noticed the slightly blush that had crept on her cheeks.

'Well, that was fun,' Tony said casually. 'Now, since I bought you, does that mean I can have my way with you?' He asked thoughtfully. Ziva narrowed her eyes and hit him on his shoulder – hard.

'One more joke and you'll end up at the bottom of the Potomac River – with the courtesy of Thom E. Gemcity!' The last three words were companied with slaps around his chest.

'Easy, Ninja,' Tony grabbed Ziva's hands and prevented her from hitting him more. 'I called with McWriter and he had forgotten the auction, but his agent had given him a budget of ten thousand dollar. If you want to put someone on the bottom of the Potomac River, it should be him,'

'You could have bid earlier! Why did you wait that long! That was totally unnecessary!' Ziva pulled her hands out of Tony's grip and kept glaring at him.

'And where would have been the fun in that? Come on, Ziva, if it were me who was being sold you would have done the same thing!' That seemed to calm her down to her normal self again.

'No,' she said matter-of-factly. 'I would have kept the money and let you get sold to an old lady with . . . needs,' She glared at him one last time and sat down at their table.

'Ohw, that would be just _mean_!' Tony sat down across from her. 'I like it! I rubbed off on you, didn't I,' he grinned. He looked towards the dance floor and saw how the live band installed themselves again to play. 'So, that ten grand . . . is that enough to get you to dance with me?'

'Why?' Ziva asked suspicious.

'Because the live band is starting to play again,' Tony nodded towards the dance floor. He stood up and offered Ziva his hand. She looked at it for a moment, not sure if she should dance with him.

'Fine,' she said. 'But because I chose to. Not because _McGee_ could afford me,' she said smirking. She refused to think about the reasons why she would say yes in the first place, but a small, nagging voice kept saying that she was liking it a little bit too much.

--

Tony placed his left hand on Ziva's shoulder, with his right he held her hand. He felt strangely conscious of himself again, as if his hands weren't his and he didn't knew where to hold them properly. But slowly the jazz took over and they really started dancing. They moved together, almost in sync, in a swinging motion that felt easy and comfortable. The rhythm sped up and Tony knew the song was almost done. He looked down at Ziva, who's eyes were sparkling, and decided to let her see how a DiNozzo could dance. He picked up the pace just a little bit more, and smiled when Ziva followed him without trouble. They moved around the dance floor in quick steps, the music reached its finale and with a smooth move Tony dipped Ziva down and hold her. When he pulled her back up, they stood nose to nose and looked each other straight in the eyes.

'Since when do you dance?' Ziva asked slightly panting.

'Since there was a class in college with a _lot_ of girls in it,' Tony grinned. The band started with a new song, a slower one this time. Tony put one hand on Ziva's back and placed their hands between them. Slowly they danced further.

'Everything for the girl, Tony?' Ziva smiled.

'That depends on the girl,' Tony laughed. His eyes met hers, and he swallowed. A stream of visuals went through his head: the girl with the beautiful brown curls, the fine looking behind, the one who knew how to drive, who was stubborn as hell, who was just a _little_ bit crazy and who could handle him. The one he would pretty much do everything for. The details were falling into place and he finally saw the bigger picture: Ziva. It was Ziva he had fallen for, Ziva who he was somehow looking for by chasing brunettes, Ziva . . . At some point in their partnership he had gone from 'having her six' to 'going to hell and back for her'. Gibbs was going to get his ass, he was sure of it.

'Oh boy,' he murmured. He let go of Ziva and stared at her.

'What's wrong?' Ziva asked. Tony had turned pale, his eyes wide.

'I . . . You . . . I don't feel so good,' he stumbled over his words and left Ziva on the dance floor to go to the bathroom in a hurry. Ziva frowned and walked after him. Tony entered the bathroom and walked to the mirror. He looked at his own reflection. Wasn't realizing that you're in love something that ought to be good? He was terrified. He shouldn't have those feelings, not in the first because rule number twelve. He shouldn't have those feelings because every woman he had ever gotten close to, ended up in two ways: hurt or dead. He didn't want to hurt Ziva and he definitely didn't want her to end up dead because he wasn't sure if he could live without her. So that left pretty much one option, he would . . .

'Are you okay, Tony?' Ziva spoke softly. Tony couldn't help but smile: of course she would come into the men's room unnoticed.

'Yeah, yeah I'm fine. I guess the lamb has fallen a bit weird,' Tony answered with a wry smile.

'You sure it is nothing else? Or are you maybe seasick?'

'Ha! I've spent four months on see, believe me, seasickness is the last thing I'm suffering from!'

'Well, seasickness or food poisoning, they just docked they yacht ashore. Are you coming?' She walked through the door. Tony looked after her and sighed. He glanced back at his reflection and sighed again. He lifted his hand, and smacked himself forcefully on the back of his head.

'Thank you boss,' he nodded. 'I needed that,' He turned and left the men's room, deciding that he wouldn't have this feelings. He would bury them somewhere deep inside, put a lock on it and forget about it. He could _not_ be in love with Ziva. So he wasn't. End of story.

* * *

_A/N: Sorry for the lack of kissing and declarations of love and things like that. It didn't felt right, I had the feeling Tony wasn't ready yet. And maybe, if I write a sequel, who knows what will happen between our favorite couple, yes?_


End file.
